In a Most Unlikely Place
by ladyoftheLights
Summary: Oliver Wood: Quidditch captain, Keeper, dedicated entirely to his sport. Melissa McKenzie: Chaser, Oliver's best friend, determined to find Oliver a girlfriend. But how will the two friends emerge after a string of events and strains on their friendship?
1. Melissa's PoV

"Melissa, stop staring at the seventh year boys in the stalls and PAY ATTENTION!"

Holy mother of God – there is a blinding pain in my nose and hot blood spurts all over my clothing as I zigzag downwards on my broom. _I don't want to die_. I think as my speed picks up.

Suddenly, strong arms grab me around my middle and I stare into the face of Oliver Wood.

"Fancy seeing you here," I mumble before I pass out.

When I open my eyes, the first thing I see is a white spotlight. There is no pain anymore except a rather annoying throbbing in my head. I turn my head and see Oliver looking at me with one eyebrow raised in amusement.

"Don't say a word," I say dangerously and he laughs.

"You're stupid, you know that right?" Oliver smirks and I roll my eyes. "Why were you looking at boys anyway?"

I think back to before that bludger hit me in the face.

"Why did you let a bludger hit me in the face?!" I say heatedly and Oliver just laughs again. He's starting to really annoy me.

"Well I did yell at you to pay attention. It's not my fault that you get easily distracted."

"The boys were really hot though," I say with a sigh and then groan: "They're going to think I am such an idiot now," I muse out loud.

"You kind of are though," Oliver shrugs.

"Tell you what, Oliver," I snap. "Lets make you stare at the stalls at then scream at you to pay attention when a bludger speeds at you face and see how you emerge then,"

"But I wouldn't have any reason to stare at the stalls,"

"Humour me,"

"I can't – why would I be staring at the stalls?"

"Because of a hot girl," I cross my arms and frown at him, but Oliver remains as cheerful as ever.

"Not enough," he grins.

"A really hot girl who fancied you,"

"'Fancied'?! What are you: 11?"

"Oliver!" I whine.

"OK, OK, sorry – well I would be too in the game to even notice," he says truthfully. I give up and admit to myself that this is true; the only thing that Oliver cares about most in the world is Quidditch.

"Whilst we're on the subject, _are_ there any girls you like?" I ask slyly hoping to catch him out. But Oliver just raises an eyebrow at me. "Of course not," I say.

At that moment, Madam Pomfrey rushes over. She checks my nose and my head and then deems me fit enough to go back to enjoying my Saturday morning. It is, after all, only 9 o'clock. Hogwarts will only just be stirring. Apart from those boys.

"Right, come on you," Oliver says, heaving himself up off the seat next to my bed and pulling me up.

"You're not going to make me play Quidditch again, are you?" I ask warily.

"God, no. Not in your state: you'd probably manage to fall off your broom and break your neck. But I'll be expecting you to score all the winning goals next weekend, mind,"

I can't even tell if he's joking or not.

"Meli, are you OK?"

My brother, Nathan who is two years above me in his seventh year has immediately managed to ambush me on my way to the library.

"Nate, I'm fine: stop worrying," I shake him off.

"Oh I'm not, but Mum is. I've told her time and time again that you can look after yourself, but she still worries," Nate says casually. I groan; I can expect a letter tomorrow from my mother asking me everything from school work to friendships.

"How's Quidditch coming along?" Nate walks me into the library and lowers his voice as we find a seat.

"It's all good – Harry is the best seeker since Charlie Weasley and Oliver is a brilliant captain – however much we all conspire to kill him," I say and pull some parchment out of my bag.

"And how did you hurt your nose?"

"Ah. Well," I stall and then decide to be truthful. "I was looking at some really good looking boys in your year,"

Nate rolls his eyes and I can tell he's regretting ever asking me. "Oh, Melissa. Don't date any of my friends, I beg you,"

"Aw, why?! Josh is really nice and don't even get me started on Joel," I say just to wind him up for the fun of it.

"SH!" He warns me, but it's too late. I fight the over whelming urge to laugh in the face of Joel Harper, Nate's best friend and a Ravenclaw.

"What about me, Mini McKenzie?" Joel says casually, raking a hand through his floppy black hair that falls slightly over his grey eyes. I actually don't find him that attractive, but Nate doesn't know that.

"Melissa was just telling me how she broke her nose," Nate says and I can see in his eyes that he wants to kill me.

As the boys start to quietly bicker with each other about how that includes Joel, with my eyes trained on them, I begin to pack away the parchment I had pulled out. I stand up and I know that it's too good to last.

"Oh no you don't, Melissa," Nate whispers in my ear and grips my arm. I grin.

"Sorry, Nathan – Quidditch practise," I mutter back and twist my arm out of his grip, speeding off into the fourth floor.

I head towards the girl's bathroom. I have a free period before the Halloween feast and I'm not going to spend it wisely.

"Well hello there, Miss McKenzie," Two voices speak in unison from behind me and there's only two people who it could be.

"Hey there, Twins," I say with a smile.

Two pairs of arms are slung casually over my shoulders and when I chance looking at both of their faces, they both have mirrored grins on their faces.

"Meli, we've got a great new idea!" Fred faces me, his face glowing with pride as soon as we are in a dark corner.

"You're going to love it," George adds.

I study them warily. "Go on," I say slowly.

"We're going to fill Snape's store cupboard with Bertie Botts Every Flavour Beans!" Fred tells me.

I pause for a moment to let this sink in and then burst into peels of laughter.

"That's so stupid, but so brilliant," I congratulate them.

For a pair of third years, the Weasley twins have the most brilliant minds than all of the OWL students put together.

"So tell me how this is going to work," I say with a huge grin on my face. Seriously – these two make my whole day.

"George, would you do the honours?" Fred says grandly to his brother and George nods.

"We're going to ask all of the Hogwarts students to give us 2 packets of beans and then duplicate the whole lot enough to fill the office. It will take a while, but it will be so worth it,"

"Oh my God, everyone is going to contribute, you know that right?" I gush and then stop. "As long as you don't let the word slip out to any Slytherins –"

"Meli. We're asking Gryffindors, Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs: how many of those are even on speaking terms with any of the Slytherins?" Fred says with his eyebrows raised at me in mocking. Even though they are two years below me, the Weasley's still tower above me. But that's not saying a lot seeing as I'm not very tall for my age.

"Alright, smart arse," I tease and smile. "But be careful!" I add.

"Always are!" They grin and then they look at each other in horror. "Filch." They look back at me. "Best be off! See you around,"

I watch them saunter off down the corridor and then shake my head in bemusement. Those two are like whirlwinds, causing chaos and trouble wherever they go.

Now where was I before the twins distracted me? … Ah yes; the bathroom.

I push open the door of the girls' bathroom and there's a noise that make me stand still for a second or two: it's the sound of a girl crying quietly.

There's no one else in the bathroom so I find the cubicle easily.

I knock softly on the door.

"Hello?" I ask quietly. There's no reply. "I heard you crying –" there's a sniffle. "It's OK to be homesick. I used to be,"

I wait for a moment.

"Please come out," I say even though I know it will be in vain. To my surprise, there is a click and the door opens to reveal a small girl with a perfect Gryffindor uniform and bushy hair.

Her brown eyes are ringed with red and brimming with tears. It breaks my heart to see someone looking so miserable.

There's something about her that is so familiar and then it hits me – she's a girl in Harry's year.

"I'm not homesick," she says and I nod.

"What's your name?" I ask her kindly and lead her over to sink where I hand her a wad of tissue paper.

"Hermione Granger," she replies timidly.

"I'm Melissa McKenzie," I introduce myself and her eyes notice my Prefects badge. "I'm also Gryffindor prefect," I add.

Hermione's eyes widen at my name. "I know you," she breathes.

"You do?" I say with a frown of confusion.

"Yes – I want to be like you," suddenly, she looks embarrassed.

"Why?" I ask her with a laugh and give her some more tissue paper.

"Because you're pretty, and smart, and everyone likes you. You're on the Quidditch team and you're popular," Hermione says all of this very fast and I am suddenly self conscious – but then it passes.

"Hermione, there is more to life than being pretty and popular," I tell her. "Have you ever heard of Oscar Wilde?"

Hermione nod eagerly. "I'm Muggle Born,"

"Great! So am I!" I say with a smile. "So anyway, in the words of Oscar Wilde, 'Genius lasts longer than Beauty',"

I wait for a moment. "So are you going to tell me what you were crying about?"

Suddenly her face falls and she's miserable again. She looks so helpless I put my arm around her.

"Someone said …" she's crying again. "Someone mimicked me and then said it was no wonder I had no friends," Hermione sobs and I give her a hug.

"Hermione, who was it? Don't worry – I won't do anything – but tell me who it was,"

"Ron Weasley," she whispers into my robes.

"Seriously?! I know the twins,"

"Oh please don't do anything!" She begs and pulls away from me.

"Hey! I won't do, don't you worry. But is it OK if I have a word with this Ron Weasley?"

She looks at me warily. "I just want to talk to him," I add.

Hermione shakes her head. "No, sorry, but thank you, Melissa,"

"Call me 'Meli' – everyone else does,"

She smiles.

"OK, from now on, you come to me for anything – problems, worries, even for a chat. And I'll also come to you, deal?"

Hermione gives a real smile now. "Deal. Thank you so much,"

"Not a problem," I tell her. "So do you want to come out now?"

"No, not yet. But I'd like to be on my own for a bit,"

"Sure thing – but don't miss the feast! Halloween ones are always the best," And with that I leave her.

I feel happy that I have done something for a first year – it makes me feel good and with that in mind I go to find Oliver Wood.

"OLIVER!" I sing and go and throw myself on his knee.

"Oh God, what?" He mumbles, embarrassed because more-or-less everyone in the Gryffindor common room is staring at us.

"Don't sound too pleased to see me," I sulk as he pushes me off his lap and onto the floor.

"Don't worry, I won't. You do realise that our match against Slytherin is in two days? And I want you healthy,"

"I'm not getting your point,"

"Well it would be a shame to have to kill my best chaser two days before the match," Oliver quips and people laugh. It's common for Oliver and me to be mean to each other in the nicest possible way. It's because we're friends. Good friends.

Oliver is really attractive but he doesn't know it – and there are many girls who sigh when he walks past them in the corridors: it's the little things that I notice that escape the famous Oliver Wood.

He's tall and toned because he's a keeper – and a cracking good one at that. His choppy caramel hair is sun bleached from all the hours in the summer outside.

I stand up and ruffle his hair: Oliver doesn't even care enough to rearrange it. This year, I have made it my goal to get him caring about something else other than Quidditch. To care about some_one_.

I will make this happen.


	2. Oliver's PoV

"Melissa, stop it," I warn her. We're sat on the grassy banks near the Black Lake along with more-or-less every single other Hogwarts student. It's November, but it's a sunny day for Scotland and everyone is making the most of it.

"I don't know what you mean, Oliver dearest," Melissa says innocently, and closes her eyes, raising her head to the sun and bathing in the comforting warmth.

"Yes you do," I mutter darkly. Melissa just laughs.

I am referring to a boy who is checking her out from a few feet away. Melissa isn't exactly playing up to the attention, but she does not dislike it.

I don't think Meli actually knows how pretty she is. Her dark brown hair is in casual, soft curls and falls to about her shoulder blades. She has long legs despite being small and she's slender. Every time a boy checks her out, I can't help but feel a pang of brotherly protectiveness over her, but it's only because she's one of my closest friends.

"Meli, seriously – he's a Slytherin," I say in an offhand way and her eyes fly open and I see her search for the colour of the boy's tie. Of course, he's not a Slytherin – I'm only saying it to make fun of her.

"Piss off, he's a Ravenclaw," she says in an annoyed way and pushes me. For a minute we wrestle with each other and I let her win so she can feel supreme.

By the time she's finished making me look weak, the boy has assumed we're together and is back talking with his mates.

"Oh he's lost interest. Shame," I say sarcastically and Melissa scowls at me.

"You did that on purpose just so I wouldn't be put off Quidditch," she says angrily.

"Yep, I did," I say.

"I hate you."

"Nah, you don't,"

We're silent for a few minutes.

"Ooh, Oliver!" Melissa giggles at me and I feel my face flush.

"What?" I snap defensively. She gives me a look.

"Oh shut up, Oliver, you're blushing like a little girl," she states triumphantly. I narrow my eyes at her.

Meli is referring to the fact that for the past half an hour, the Ravenclaw Quidditch captain, Suze Palmer and I have been catching each other's eyes and smiling.

"Melissa, I have no idea what you're talking about," I say with a dignified sigh, pushing back my hair and lifting up my face towards the sun, feeling the warmth caress my skin.

"Whatever. You're a bad liar. I can read you like a book,"

"Nah, you can't,"

"I can. Right now you're wondering how best to shut me up without coming across as being too defensive,"

Damn, she's right. That's the thing with Melissa; she always knows what I'm thinking, mores the pity that I actually have to admit that she's right.

"Suze Palmer is _so _into you," Melissa is sounding like Wise Woman of the Forest and it's beginning annoying me.

"So?"

"Well she's very pretty, very clever and very desperate to go on a date with you,"

I look across to Melissa to see whether or not she's taking the piss and see that she's lying on her back with her eyes closed. Her hair is in a dark crown around her head and her red tie has been slung unceremoniously next to her left leg.

"So?" I repeat, starting to sound like a broken record.

"Are you _really _that clueless?" Meli rolls onto her side and props herself up with one elbow, her dark green eyes boring into mine scornfully.

"Well no –" I begin but she cuts across me impatiently.

"Right, then shut up and go and ask the girl out on a date where you can bond over Quidditch and such,"

"You're very rude,"

"You're very ungrateful," Melissa says with dignity.

She leans back to bask in the rays of the rare sunshine and I begin to flick aimlessly through a Potions book. The truth is, I have no intention of asking Suze Palmer out. Yes, she's gorgeous and lovely and we get on well, but she's not my type.

"Oh, God – hide me," Melissa mutters and I turn to where her horrified gaze is fixated.

"Melissa, what –" but by the time I look back, she has disappeared.

I expect to see a teacher, but there is no one there who I can see as a threat to her until–

"Hi, Oliver!"

_Shit_.

"Oh, hey, Leighton," I say wearily, massaging my eardrum. Leighton has the tendency to screech a greeting at you when she gets excited.

"Have you seen Mel?" She asks, looking around. Inwardly I grin evilly: Melissa despises being called 'Mel'. It's 'Meli', 'Melissa', or nothing.

"I have no idea where she went," I say truthfully, looking round for her myself. Where the hell has she gone?!

"Oh, OK – tell her I was looking for her," Leighton says with a tragic sigh and with a last look at me, she walks off again. I watch her go.

"Thank God for that,"

"HOLY SHIT, Melissa!" I nearly jump out of my skin at the sound of her voice and I look back at her. She's stretching her legs out in front of her like she's been there all along.

"What now, Oliver?"

"Where the hell did you go?!"

Melissa nods her head over to a huge stone statue and then her face lights up and she waves, beckoning someone over. I pull out my wand and begin to practise some spells to pass the time whilst Melissa chats to a small Gryffindor girl.

"Oliver!"

I snap out of my daydream and look into the eyes of a furious Melissa.

"What?"

"I was introducing you to a friend of mine!"

My eyes find the Gryffindor girl. "Sorry! Hi, I'm Oliver Wood,"

"We already established that if you had been listening," Melissa huffs and I ignore her.

"I'm Hermione Granger," the girl says and I recognise her as being one of Harry's friends along with the Weasley's youngest brother, Ron.

"Yes, you're Harry's friend," I say knowingly.

"Shut up now, Oliver," Melissa snaps and I can tell I'm going to have to make it up to her. She's been stressed this year and I can't handle her mood swings: I'm only a guy after all. "Bye, Hermione!" Melissa calls and when she looks forwards again she's rubbing her forehead. A sign she's stressed.

I give her a soft push. "Hey, you,"

Melissa frowns. "Can you be nice to me for like, two minutes?"

"I'm always nice to you!" I say in my defence, but Meli ignores me. "Come here," I sigh and outstretch my arm to her. Melissa snuggles into me, pushing her shoulder under my arm and resting her head on my shoulder.

"Now tell me what's up," I say gently.

"Nothing," Meli says and gives a sigh. Her breath tickles my neck.

I resist the huge temptation to smack my palm against my forehead. But somehow I manage it, because I know that Meli needs me right now.

"Can you do me a favour and not get a date this weekend?" I ask her tentatively. Melissa pulls away from me angrily.

"All you care about is Quidditch!" She says heatedly. "When are you actually going to start caring about something other that Quidditch?"

"Meli, you know Quidditch is my life,"

"Yes, I do, and that's what worries me," Melissa says and I can hardly believe that I'm hearing this from her. "You tell me not to date boys, to make sure my weekend is free and – _WHAT?!_" she screeches at Harry who has come up to me.

"Oh hey, Harry," I say tiredly.

"I was just coming to ask you about the new Quidditch routine you had lined up —" Harry is eyeing Melissa like she's a Hungarian Horntail. And I don't blame him for one minute.

"Run while you can, Potter," Melissa seethes, and with one last glare at me, she shoulders her bag and stalks off towards the castle.

"Oh, that's going to take some grovelling later …" I mutter regretfully. I turn back to Harry. "Never become best friends with a girl. Things get messy come fourth year," I warn him and luckily he smiles.

"So what time do you want me on the pitch for on Saturday?" Harry asks.

"Well I'll come and wake you up, because I haven't decided yet. And it depends on how long Melissa plans on sulking with me for," I say and Harry nods.

"OK, well I have to go now, but thanks, Oliver!"

"No problem. See you round, Potter,"

I watch Harry walk back up to the castle with Ron and Hermione and wonder how everything is going to settle out for them.

But right now I have to make it up to Melissa and it's not going to be pretty.

Here goes nothing.


	3. Melissa's PoV 2

I thrust my hands into my pockets moodily and walk around the seventh floor corridor with my head down.

"Shit, watch where you're going –"

"Sorry!" I say with my hand over my mouth and look up into the eyes of a guy. He's a face I don't recognise, but I think I might have broken the ice by walking straight into his chest.

I mentally smack myself on the forehead multiple times.

This guy is tall, dark hair, honey brown eyes and … a _Hufflepuff_?! Why didn't someone tell me they had the best looking boys in their house? I'd have been there in a shot. Not that I'm fickle or anything.

"Hey," I say slightly breathlessly. I'm not taken away by his beauty (although he is gorgeous), I haven't realised how fast I've been walking.

"Hey there. I'm Henry,"

"I'm –"

"Melissa McKenzie – I know. I think everyone knows who you are," Henry says with a smile.

"Really?" I ask worriedly.

"But for all the right reasons," Henry says quickly and I laugh.

"Sorry for walking into you," I say and Henry waves a hand.

"Don't worry about it. You can walk into me anytime you want,"  
You know, I might just take him up on that.

I laugh again. "Bye," I give him a smile and carry on my way. Stalking off into the unknown, sulking about my unfair position: because I'm so mature.

"Hey, Melissa!" Henry calls and I spin around.

"Yeah?"

"Do you want to go into Hogsmeade with me … sometime?"

I bite my lip with a smile. I don't want to appear too desperate. Even though inside I am screaming 'yes' at him. I twirl a lock of my dark hair around my index finger, pretending to be cool.

"I'm free this weekend?" I contemplate and the boyish grin that spreads on Henry's face is just the most adorable thing I think I've ever seen in my life. Apart from that time when Oliver ... never mind.

"That would be great. Shall I meet you here at about 9 on Saturday?" Henry plans and I think about this for a moment. I have Quidditch practise on Saturday morning, but if Oliver is just going to take me for granted and tell me when and when not to do things then I'm just going to do whatever the hell I want.  
"That sounds perfect. But shall I meet you in the Entrance Hall?"

"Ah, sure. Well I'll see you then,"

"I'll look forwards to it,"

"Bye,"

"See you,"

I resist the huge temptation to jump up and down in the corridor squealing like a five year old, resorting for a small; "SQUEE!" under my breath to let out my excitement. I really am fed up of Oliver putting me off boys that I see and like just because of his stupid Quidditch team.

I love the game, and I know that I'm a good chaser, but I don't want to play it for the rest of my life.

Waking up, the first thing I see when I look out of the window is rain. And lots of it. I groan as I sit up and noiselessly make my way over to the bathroom as not to wake up my sleeping room mates.

I shower and brush my teeth and by the time my I am pulling out some clothes deciding what to wear, my fellow Gryffindor girls are just stirring.  
"What you doing?" My best friend Mia sits up and it's obvious that she's going to go back to sleep somewhere in the middle of my answer.

I decide to keep it short.

"Date. Hufflepuff. Henry." I say and Mia nods. She runs a hand through her light brown hair and then falls back against her pillows.

"Date?" Now I have the attention of Alice, my other best friend. She's looking slightly more alert as she shuffles to the end of her bed, wrapping her skinny arms around her knees and pulling them under her chin.

"Yep. With super hot Hufflepuff," I nod proudly.  
"What are you going to wear?" Alice asks me and I pause.

"I have no idea,"

"Well it's raining,"

"Well done, Captain Obvious," I mutter and Alice sticks her tongue out at me.

"So you should wear jeans –"

"Skinny or normal?" I ask, holding up two different pairs.

"Skinny, but not skin tight – you want to seem casual, but not too dressy,"

I nod at her and dump my other jeans back in my trunk and pull my skinny jeans on.

"OK, now pick a nice off the shoulder green top that you will find in my trunk, wear some sneakers and have a nice day," Alice has run out of alertness. So I follow her instructions, dress appropriately and study myself in the full length mirror in the bathroom.

I perform a quick drying spell on my hair and decided to leave it as it is. I throw on minimal amounts of make-up, slip my feet into my favourite black sneakers and grab my wand, sticking it in my back pocket before I leave.

I skid to a halt in front of Henry who is leaning casually against the statue in the Entrance Hall at 9:03am. He's wearing a red checked shirt which he leaves hanging open over a plain white t-shirt and a pair of faded blue jeans. He looks cool. And he's waiting for me. A few people are only just going into the Great Hall for breakfast and my stomach grumbles when I realise that I haven't eaten anything.

"Hey there!" Henry's face lights up in a smile when he sees me and I return the warm smile.

"Hey!"

"You hungry?" Henry asks me and I nod. "We'll get something in Hogsmeade – I haven't eaten either,"

"Sure," I say and Henry smiles.

"Shall we go?"

"Sure,"

_I'm beginning to sound like a broken record – say something intelligent!_

We leave the warmth of the Entrance Hall and make our way down into Hogsmeade.

"So how's your nose?" Henry asks. This pulls me up short.

"Say what?" I say stupidly and then mentally kick myself.

"Your nose,"

I frown. How does Henry know this?

"I was there in the stalls the day that bludger hit you in the face," Henry laughs and I laugh along weakly.

"Ah, really? And you're still going on a date with me?"

"Actually, I was really worried about you," he says. "Do things like that happen a lot?"

"What can I say – I'm a walking hazard!" I say jovially.

And promptly trip up on a paving stone.

Henry catches me before I hit the ground and I feel like burying my face in my hands.

"Reflexes like that … are you a Keeper?" I ask. Henry winks at me jokily with a smile. I grin, understanding the joke. "I mean in Quidditch!" I add.

"Yes, I am – you got hit by a bludger in the last match of Hufflepuff against Gryffindor,"

The rain beats down against us and I'm beginning to regret not bringing a raincoat with me – but the rain is warm and pleasant. Henry isn't wearing a coat either and he pushes his hair back from his face.

We enter the warmth of The Three Broomsticks and Henry goes up to order two Butterbeers and I take a nice window seat. He comes back with the warm beverages and a bowl of nachos.

"Mmm," I say, pleased and go for a nacho to ease the relentless grumbling of my stomach.

Henry laughs. "Oh, Melissa –"

"Meli," I correct him.

"Meli, you're the only girl I know whose face would light up at the prospect of eating nachos," Henry takes one himself.

"Ah, but I play Quidditch. I can afford to stuff myself," I reply.

"I think all guys make that excuse,"

"Yeah, I know – my brother is constantly making that excuse. I think sometimes he wishes I was a boy too. We get on well but he'd prefer a brother," I suddenly feel self conscious and like I've said too much. I can feel my face heating up.

"You don't need to worry. I wouldn't want to change anything about you," he says slightly shyly and I relax.

"Not even the fact that I am a hazard?"

"Not even that,"

I run my fingers through my wet hair and pull it all over to one side where I start to plait it.

"So," I say, concentrating on my plait. "Stating the obvious here but – are you a seventh year?"  
"I'm actually a sixth year," Henry replies.

"Aren't I too young for you?"

"Only one year, Meli," Henry laughs. God, he must thing I'm some sort of weirdo.

"I feel so young," I say thoughtfully and take two nachos.

"You act mature,"

"You're a good liar,"

"I'm a Hufflepuff! I don't lie,"

I think this one over. "OK, true, but whatever,"

"I heard from the grapevine that you are missing Quidditch practise to be with me,"

"Don't flatter yourself, I'm rebelling,"

"Against who?"

"Oliver Wood," I say his name with venom and my eyes narrow. "I am going to be in so much trouble tonight,"

"He doesn't own you," Henry says with a small frown and takes a sip of his Butterbeer.

"I know, but, he always wants us to do well and he's my best friend. Anyway. I'm really going to be in for it later,"

The hours pass quickly and before I know it, we are up at Hogwarts. Its 2pm so there's still a lot of time to kill doing homework before the end of the day. I heave a content sigh and lean against Henry whose arm constricts around me.

I am happy and nothing can bring me down.

Henry has walked me all the way up to the Seventh floor and we are outside the portrait of The Fat Lady when I finally have to say goodbye to him.

We face each other and I don't quite know what to say.

"I really like you, Melissa," Henry says and we move closer together. I don't even bother to correct him about my name.

He leans in and kisses me softly before pulling away, giving me one last boyish grin and disappearing back off down to his own common room.

"Are you going to give me the password, or not?" The Fat Lady snaps at me moodily and I turn to her with a slightly dazed smile.

"Fortuna Major," I say dreamily and she swings open on her hinges to let me through.

Uh oh. There's Oliver.

He's storming over to me.

Here we go …


	4. Oliver's PoV 2

I check my watch. It's 7am and my team are dragging themselves onto the pitch. They all look like they would like nothing better than to crawl back up to their common rooms and sleep for another three hours, but I have other ideas for them.

Harry is the first to arrive, closely followed by Alicia Spinnet, Angelina Johnson and finally, fifteen minutes late, the Weasley twins.

"God forbid either of you should be on time," I say to them and they both narrow their eyes at me.  
"Don't push it, Oliver," mutters Fred moodily, mounting his broom. "We off?"

"No not yet," I wave him down. "We still need Melissa,"

I look around and expect to see her racing towards the pitch. She's half an hour late and even for her, this is bad. I haven't spoken to her since she flounced off the other day. I hope she's gotten over it because I haven't been able to apologise to her.

I wait for another ten minutes and my team are getting restless and ratty because they're cold and they want to get moving. The only one who doesn't complain is Harry, but the rest have been here long enough to be able to shout at me and I won't bat an eyelid.

Frowning, I sigh and turn slightly disappointedly back to my team. "Right, well. She's obviously not coming, so … warm up. I want you all to run around the pitch once,"

They are all immediately up in arms, yelling at me that Quidditch is an air sport, so why the hell should they have to warm up their legs.

"OI," I bellow above the racket. "GET RUNNING, ALL OF YOU,"

With final dirty looks in my direction, they start to run around the pitch and I join in with them. Running gives me something to do so I'm not thinking about my disappointment in Melissa. She has never let me down like this before and she had better have a good reason.

I eventually feel so bad about taking my annoyance out on my team that I call them to a halt about a quarter of the way round the huge pitch.  
"Alright, you lot, get up in the air," I say dejectedly and they all mutter things which I choose to ignore and mount my own broom.

Running may take your mind off things, but there's nothing quite like take off on a broom, no matter what model it is. The feeling of the wind in your hair and the lightweight feel of yourself up in the air is one that I cherish every time I fly.

"Right, team," I call at them and they all gather in the middle. "Spread out in a circle and we'll do a warm up practise. Angelina, can you get the Quaffle?"

"On it, Oliver," Angelina dives down and scoops up the big red ball and then tosses it to me. I catch it without any effort in my right hand.

"OK, guys, you know the drill. Pass the Quaffle to each other without dropping it and do it as fast as you can. Go!" I throw the Quaffle across the circle to Harry who throws to George who throws at Fred next to him who drops it.

"Hey! That wasn't fair – I was expecting it to come from someone like Alicia!" Fred moans and points across the circle at Alicia.  
"Cut it out, Weasley, George could have passed to anyone, which, by the way, is the point of the game – you should always be ready! Go again," I say.

We do this for another ten minutes until we can all do it without dropping the Quaffle: I do this exercise with my team to warm up their hand eye coordination.

"Right, Fred, George – get one of the bludgers out and you two can bat that around for a bit, OK?"

"Sure thing, Captain," George salutes me and with a straight face, I roll my eyes at them. The twins can certainly make Quidditch practise a lot more fun especially when I force them to train so early in a morning. I can see Angelina and Alicia giggling and glancing over at the Weasley's so I throw the Quaffle at them to gain their attention. Angelina catches it without even batting an eyelid. I am impressed by her quick reflexes.

"Girls, get throwing and catching and flying," I call at them. "Potter, you and I are going to do some training, come over here," I call over to Harry who nods once and speeds over to me.

I can see this might actually be a very productive training session.

For the next few hours we train hard and seamlessly. Except that I am missing my best chaser. But Harry plays brilliantly, the twins are a perfect team and my two chasers are superb.

We all land on the firm ground.

"Well done, you lot. You were brilliant," I say breathlessly and they look triumphant, if slightly tired. "You can all go back to bed now, if you like,"

"THANK YOU," they gush in unison and race back up to the castle. I laugh as I watch them go. In the distance I can see the twins pushing each other over and I shake my head in amusement.

I put away my broom and rub my eyes. I am pretty tired but I know that I won't be able to sleep if I try. I know that there is a Transfiguration essay that I need to write, Snape wants us all to know every single thing about mixing some potion that I have already forgotten the name of, and I have to learn a new spell for Charms.

Slipping through the portrait hole, I enter the common room which for a Saturday afternoon is surprisingly empty.

My stomach gurgles and I have forgotten to eat lunch. I head on down to the Great Hall still in my muddy Quidditch gear because it would take too much time to take it off. I'm hungry.

"Hey, Oliver," I look around and see Suze, a Ravenclaw in my year.

"Oh, hey, Suze," I greet her and she walks next to me. Her flaxen hair is shoulder length and she's tall, but not that much taller than me. She's clever and funny and although I only know her through Quidditch (she's captain of the Ravenclaw team) I do get on quite well with her. Suze plays nervously with her hands and she seems to want to ask me something.  
"So how are you?"

"Good thanks. Just got back from Quidditch practise and I'm going to go and have some lunch. How're you?"

"I'm great thanks. Hey, Oliver –" Suze starts but is cut off by the Weasley twins.

"So Oliver, we were thinking," starts Fred.

"If we're going to beat Slytherin next weekend," George adds, and they both grin mischievously.

"We should have some extra weapons up our sleeves," Fred finishes.  
"For the last time, you are _not _taking your wands onto the pitch!" I say in exasperation.

"No, we meant extra tactics," George lowers his voice to a whisper.  
"Well, bye, Oliver," Suze takes this as her cue to leave.

"See you," I say and then turn my attention back to the brilliant minds of the redheaded twins in front of me. "OK, what were you thinking?"

"As much as I hate Slytherin, no you cannot throw dung bombs at them; no you cannot attach dung bombs to the bludgers and then hit them in the way of the Slytherin team. You two, that's _cheating_," I reel off and give them a parental look with my arms crossed over my chest.

"They always cheat!" Fred whines.

"Yeh – remember that time in our second year?" George adds.

"Yes, but they usually get caught cheating – we would be disappointing the whole of Gryffindor if we cheated," I say firmly and the twins don't push the issue any further, accepting that I am right.

Talking of disappointments to Gryffindor, I still have no idea where Melissa is.

I towel dry my hair, leaving it in a tousled mess on my head. I pull on a dark green t-shirt that happens to be hanging over the side of my trunk and grab a pair of old jeans and some sneakers that are under my bed.

It's about time that I should start on that essay. I heave a sigh and grab some parchment and race down to the Gryffindor common room to grab a table and get some work done.

I have barely written my introductory paragraph when Melissa slides through the portrait hole and into the common room with a dazed smile on her face. My own expression hardens and it's obvious where she has been.

I get up and storm over to her. She's looking slightly worried and averts her gaze from mine. I halt in front of her.

"And where the hell have you been?" I say loudly and the common room hushes.

"Out," Melissa says just as loudly.

"With a boy?"

"For Gods sake, Oliver, you're not my _father_," she shouts. Some people take this as their cue to leave but others are listening in intently.

"Yeah, Melissa – you're supposed to be my _friend_," I press.

"Oh get over it," Melissa fights back. But I know her too well – the look in her eyes tells me that she's regretting it.

"Thanks for letting me know. Five years of friendship and it's good to see we can communicate efficiently with each other," I say simply. I want to shout at her but instead I give her a shrug. I walk straight past her, through the portrait hole and into the seventh floor corridor. What a let down.

"Oliver, wait!" Melissa catches my arm but I shake her off and carry on walking. "Oliver, please," the desperation in her voice is un-missable.

"What?" I say harshly and face her.

"I'm sorry,"

"Yeah, OK," I say and walk down the corridor. I'm not really sure where I'm going, but it doesn't really matter.  
"What more do you want me to say? I'm sorry I missed your stupid Quidditch practise," She says heatedly, throwing her arms into the air. Melissa has stopped walking and I turn slowly to face her. This is so typical of her: never accepting the blame and then throwing up her defence mode when things get too close to home.

"This isn't about Quidditch, Melissa," I say. "This is about you not thinking that you can at least _let _me know where you were going. This is about you and how you evidently don't think that I care about anything other that Quidditch. But I do, Melissa. Not that you would ever care to see it," With that I walk on, down three floors and into the Library without looking back.

Once I'm in there, I don't know what to so I grab a book about Potions and seat myself on a bench, flicking through the ancient book moodily.

Melissa is so _stubborn_. Why can't she see how I feel? Why hasn't she picked up on it yet? Because she's too busy dating other guys, that's why.

I slam the book shut. Snape can fail me all he likes, that's how much I care.

Someone slides into the bench next to me and I don't bother to see who it is but I recognise the floral scent. A hand is placed on mine. Only one person I know wears that silver ring on the second finger of their left hand.

"Oliver, I'm sorry," Melissa whispers in my ear. It sounds like she's been crying. A part of me doesn't care but there's a bigger part of me that does.

"Go and tell your boyfriend about it," I say, but the words come out sharper than I had intended.  
"Say the word and I'll go,"

"Bye, Melissa,"

"Sure. Bye,"

And then without another word, my best friend walks out with her head held high. I can say one thing for her: she's certainly strong.


	5. Melissa's PoV 3

"I am a horrible person," I sob dramatically and loudly into Henry's shoulder whilst he attempts to calm me down but to no avail. "I should have told him and now –" I am overcome by more sobs and a fresh flood of tears as I think to how harshly he spoke to me. His expression. Oh – here I go again.

"Melissa, it will be fine," Henry's voice is still as comforting and soft as it was half an hour ago.

"No it won't," I wail and feel his arms constrict around me. "He will never talk to me again!"

Henry doesn't bother to say anything more; he just holds me and kisses my head. I am feeling weak and pathetic and I feel bad that Henry is the one who has to pick up the pieces.

"Sorry for ruining your day," I mumble and Henry gives a laugh.  
"The only way you ruined it is by being upset – I hate to see you sad,"

See, why can't _Oliver _say romantic things like that? Why am I even thinking of Oliver in that way? I shake him out of my head.

Henry holds me at arms length and gently brushes away my tears, giving me a kiss on the forehead.

"I never knew Melissa McKenzie was such a softie," he says with an amused expression. "How are you now?"

"Hating myself."

"Oh come on –"  
"No really, I am."

Henry gives me a look and I just shrug. I roughly wipe my face with my hands and take several deep breaths, pulling myself together. "OK. Phew, right. I'm all good,"

I pick up my bag off the floor and sling my satchel over one shoulder.

Henry looks at me, amazed at how quickly I can pull myself together.

"I'll see you later, OK?" I say and then pause. "Does it look like I've been crying?" I add.

"Not a bit," Henry confirms.

I nod and then smile at him. "Thank you for dealing with me!"

I see Oliver in the common room. I feel sick and my heart tries to make me turn around and run back out of the room, but my head tells me firmly that I have every right to be here as much as him.

Just to be awkward, I go and sit right next to Oliver on the sofa. I pull out a book and start to flick through it leisurely.

"Melissa," Oliver says gruffly. I ignore him even though I know I'm the one in the wrong.

He clears his throat. "Melissa," Oliver says louder.

"Oliver," I trill.

"Sorry for snapping,"

"I'd apologise for being a bitch, but you know I was born this way," I say in a bored tone. I'm winding him up simply because I know how to and because he hurt me and I want to hurt him back to show him that he doesn't affect me. Even though he does.

"Stop being so difficult," he mutters angrily.

I turn another page even though I'm not reading at all.

"Well you can't say I didn't try," Oliver says shortly.

I slam the book shut and turn to him. "I tried with you. I apologised and you just turned me away," I snap.

Oliver looks slightly taken aback with my sudden outburst but soon retains his composure.

"You just don't get it, do you?"

And with that, he's gone.

I have no idea what goes through his mind sometimes.

My usual partner for Potions is Oliver. But my usual partner and I aren't on speaking terms right now.

"Miss McKenzie," Snape picks on me because I am a Gryffindor and I am clever, so he asks me stupidly hard things just to try and catch me out.

"Sir?" I ask warily, gearing myself up something that isn't even on the level of the NEWT students' intelligence.

"Would you like to tell the rest of the class the potion we will be brewing today?"

I panic. He told us last lesson but I can't for the life of me remember. "Miss McKenzie?" Snape probes with a sneer on his thin lips.

I repeatedly swear in my head because I know that I'm going to wind up with a weeks detention for not paying attention and having the memory of an elephant.

Everything is deathly silent which makes things 100x worse, I sit in my seat meeting Snape's dead stare. Oliver is scribbling away next to me and I am about to hit him when I notice a slip of parchment in my lap.

_Draught of living death_

"Draught of living death, sir," I say. Snape raises an eyebrow.

"One weeks detention, Miss McKenzie," he states triumphantly. I mentally roll my eyes.

"But Sir, she got it right!" Oliver blurts out, outraged. It's like a comedy sketch in this room; there is a collective intake of breath from everyone in the room because no-one yell out or talks back in Potions.

"And it looks like you will be joining her, Mr Wood," Snape adds – this must be making his whole morning. "Detention then, for both of you. Now, the draught of living death …"

"Oh well done." I hiss.

"What?! I was _trying_ to help you," Oliver hisses back, his lips are hardly moving and we both have out eyes trained on the parchment in front of us.

"Yeah, and managed to get us _both_ in detention. Genius plan," I mutter venomously.

"You ungrateful little –"

"Bring it, you self centred –"

"Oh _I'm_ the self centred one?!"

"QUIET!" Snape yells, finally having enough of our bickering match. "Wood, McKenzie, get out of my lesson, and I will see you both at 7 o'clock for your detentions!"

Muttering furiously under my breath, I snatch my books off the desk and shove them unceremoniously into my bag before storming off through the dungeons without even bothering to wait for Oliver.

"Melissa, wait!"

I hear Oliver running along the stone corridor and I ignore him, furious that he's got me into trouble.

"Melissa-"

"Piss off, Oliver, you're dead in my book," I yell at him.

He catches my arm and spins me round. There's a fire in his eyes. "I really hate you sometimes," he says wearily.

I open my mouth to protest but my words are muffled by Oliver's mouth on mine.

_WHAT IS EVEN HAPPENING RIGHT NOW!?_

I'm kissing Oliver; my best friend, my emotional stability, the boy who, in my eyes, still looks like the weedy little first year I met on the Hogwarts Express.

His lips are warm and soft and inviting and the electricity of teenage hormones exploding is ringing in my ears and tingling in the pit of my stomach. My heart feels so happy and fit to burst as our tongues tentatively entwine.

Oliver wraps his strong arms around my waist and I push one hand through his hair, the other resting on his shoulder.

We pull away and rest our foreheads together.

"Why do you hate me sometimes?" I blurt out.

Oliver laughs. "Really, Melissa? That's all you got from that?"

"Well this throws a spanner in the works," I mutter.

"Why?" Oliver asks and his eyebrows pull together.

I sigh. "Because now I'm going to have to tell Henry that I don't actually want to be with him."

Oliver starts to pull away but I pull him back against me. "Hey." I look into his eyes; his stunning, hazel eyes with flecks of amber. I can't stop smiling. Reaching up on my tip toes, I kiss his lips again.

"God, Melissa. What are we like?" Oliver holds me against his chest.

"Proud, stubborn –" I start but then catch the look that he's giving me and start laughing.

"Let's go up to the common room. We should have it to ourselves for an hour seeing as we've been kicked out of Potions. Crying shame," Oliver says.

"Oh but I wanted to go to the library and revise!" I protest.

"Don't make me carry you up to the common room, Meli. You know I will."

Oliver doesn't wait for me to reply – instead, he throws me over his shoulder like I'm just a bag of floor.

"No!" I say indignantly. "Put me down!"

Oliver begins walking through the Entrance Hall and up the marble staircase casually, like he doesn't have a 130lbs girl over his shoulder.

It's when we're at about the fourth floor when I realise that fighting against Oliver is useless and just drape over his shoulder like a curtain. Ever so often he flips me over to the other shoulder and then eventually dumps me down on the squashy red sofa in front of the fire in the Gryffindor common room.

Oliver sits beside me on the sofa.

"So what happens with us now then?" He asks. I rearrange my limbs and sit on his knee. I know I've often thrown myself on Oliver's lap, but this time it feels different; the way he holds me in place isn't begrudging or annoyed. Instead, it's careful and respective.

"I need to talk to Henry," I say gently, sweeping several strands of sun bleached hair from his eyes.

He tries for a smile. "OK,"

I kiss him. It still feels right.

"Henry, can I talk to you?" My stomach is twisting itself in knots and I suddenly find myself to feel quite nauseous.

Henry looks up from his place at the Hufflepuff table. I think he knows whats coming.

"It's OK, Melissa. I know you and Oliver have made up and I know he means more to you than you think he does," he says, and tries for a smile.

"Oh," Is all I manage to say. "I'm sorry,"

"It's alright. I still want to remain your friend," Henry stands up to give me a quick hug before sitting back down. His fellow Hufflepuffs are looking at us sympathetically.

"Sure. Well, see you round," I'm still a bit stunned, but I feel better for letting things break up with Henry even though we weren't actually dating.

I return to my own table to eat the remainder of my lunch.

Oliver takes me in his arms and no one bats an eyelid – they're all used to us sometimes acting more than friends. But that changes when Oliver kisses me full on the mouth in front of everyone. There's uproar of wolf whistling and cheers from the Gryffindors and the Quidditch team in particular.

"Finally!" Angelina says giving us both a knowing look and a smile.

Oliver and I grin slightly sheepishly at each other.

Today is a lovely day.


End file.
